Page 33 of Hat Trick
The boys have been hovering all day. I get two little boo boos and you'd think I was dying. Before, I would have hated all the extra attention, but now I find it flattering. I'm glad they care enough about me to worry. Lord knows I care enough about them, and I have to watch them tackle grown men with blades on their feet almost nightly. I made the mistake of looking up NHL injury statistics once and now every time I watch them play, I give myself an ulcer. Thank God I'm not a nail biter because I'd have none left.
The boys had a cheat day, so we swung by a local diner for dinner before heading home. We're all exhausted. Between the sun and swimming and drinking beer all day, we're all ready for bed. I give a sleeping Annie a quick warm wipe bath before setting her in her crib. She passed out on the way home from the diner and didn't even wake when Carter took her out of her car seat.
Carter bends into her crib and leaves a whisper of a kiss on her forehead before turning to me. He's so close I can feel the heat radiating off of his body.
His eyes bore into mine as he reaches over to my nightstand and grabs the baby monitor in one hand, and my hand in the other. I swallow down a ball of nerves and let him lead me through his bedroom into his bathroom. I don't know what's going on, but I don't complain. I'd go anywhere with Carter. He closes the bathroom door, and the 'snick' of the lock feels ominous.
He releases my hand and turns the water on in the bath, sitting on the edge of it and trailing his hand through the stream, testing for temperature. He sets the plug and stands, turning to face me.
"Can I take care of you?" He asks, his voice low and sultry. I have no idea what he means, what we're doing here, what this is, but I like Carter, and I trust him.
I nod. He slowly turns me so I'm facing away from him, and towards the mirror. I watch our reflection as he tenderly removes my hair tie and runs his fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp. An involuntary moan escapes my lips and I flush with embarrassment. I sound like a porn star and he's just massaging my head.
Something's different tonight. Carter's always been touchy-feely, eager to hug or cuddle or rub my feet, but tonight something's shifted. The crackle of energy between us is palpable and the hairs on the back of my arms rises.
"Say the word and I'll stop." I blink up at him silently. "I want to take care of you, Emily. You do so much to take care of everyone else. You stepped in front of a moving train of a hockey player today to protect my daughter."
A part of me is disappointed, but a part of me is relieved. I want him to say he wants me. But I chide myself. I can feel the sexual energy between us, but that's all it is. I'm just the safe choice. He knows I'm not going to expect more or want a future with him.
We're two adults with needs. That's it.
But the way he's looking at me, eyes fierce with heat, starts a warmth in my chest that's rapidly spreading south.
He lifts my arms before pulling my tank top off. Next, he strips off his shirt, then my shorts. We're still in our bathing suits, but it feelsraw, exposed, intimate. I wrap my arms around my midsection, uncomfortable. I watch in the mirror as he brushes my hair off of my neck and plucks the string of my bikini. Our eyes meet in the reflection, a silent question. There's no denying I want this man. He was the main character in most of my self-care fantasies for years. But fantasizing about Carter, and really being with Carter, are two completely different things.
My heart has lost it's rhythm and is jackhammering against my rib cage and I feel dizzy. The noise of the water is drowned out by the roaring of blood in my ears.
I bite my lip.
And nod.
He undoes the top strings of my bikini, before the back strings, and I stand in front of Carter, Captain of the Titans, topless. He lightly kisses my shoulder before undoing the strings on either side of my hips, letting the fabric fall away. His board shorts go next, and I suck in an inhale. My eyes shoot up to avoid staring at his naked cock.
Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.Plays on repeat in my head. Shock and nerves and overwhelm don't let in any other thoughts. Until Carter trails his hand down my arm, and laces his fingers through mine. He leads me to the bath and holds my hand while I step in. He turns the water off and steps in behind me. He sits, legs wide, places his hands on my hips and guides me down so I'm siting, my back to his front, between his thick thighs.
I lean back gently. I'm shaking like a leaf, arms covering my chest. Until I feel the length of him. My wide eyes get bigger. He's hard and huge and he's pressing into my lower back. Carter's turned on. By me.
"Ignore Mjölnir." He says.
And in two words, the thick, intense energy in the room vanishes and I snort a laugh. "You did not name your dick Mjölnir," I laugh.
"Thor's hammer? No. I didn't, but one of the puck bunnies posted about it online and called it that. I guess it stuck."
I laugh louder, my body instantly relaxing against his. This is us. Friends. We relax together, find comfort in each other. He's my best friend. I know I never have to be nervous around him, and he can relax with me. Here, in this bathroom, he can leave all the stressors of his life outside. He's not team captain, not a hockey player, not a dad. Here, with me, he's just Carter. And I love that I get to see a side of him no one else does.
"What are we doing here, Carter?" I whisper after the laughing dies down.
"Taking care of each other. That's what we do best, right?"
I guess it is. He gently peels the band aids off my knees and does on overhead arc, tossing them in the trash. "You missed your calling as a basketball player."
"Basketball's a garbage sport."
"You've got the height for it."
"Are you saying I'm not good at hockey?"
I give a playful shrug. "Gretsky was better."
